


Distraction

by ahurston



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baseball, David's Body Issues, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-5x13, Praise Kink, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahurston/pseuds/ahurston
Summary: Patrick and David, discovering how useful and distracting sex can be.





	1. Chapter 1

“Can I help you?” Patrick asked, as David’s hand lightly traced patterns on the inside of his thigh from where he was leaning next to him on the couch in Patrick's living room. 

The Toronto Blue Jays were playing the Yankees. Bottom of the 7th, David was pretty sure. Although, the last time Patrick had tried to explain “bottom” vs. “top” as it pertains to baseball, David had admittedly gotten distracted. The score was seven to six, Yankees up. This, David understood, was unusually close for Patrick’s favorite team when up against pretty much any other team. Good for Patrick. 

Patrick was into the game. David was not. He’d stopped scrolling Instagram twenty minutes ago, opting instead to draw some abstract art on Patrick’s jeans. 

“Nope. No, I’m fine. You just enjoy your game,” David said, breezily. 

Patrick’s eyes stayed fixed to the screen. “Really. Because you seem like you might need something to occupy yourself until this is done.”

David lightly ran his index finger up and down the inner seam of Patrick’s jeans.

“David.”

“Yes, Patrick?” David smirked to himself, pleased that he’d been able to pull Patrick’s attention away, at least a little.

“You’ll have to do better than that.” Patrick glanced at him, an arch to his eyebrows. 

Nodding, David climbed down onto the floor, grateful for the plush rug they’d bought a few months’ back in celebration of a lucrative contract with a new vendor for the store. 

David popped the button, and slid Patrick’s zipper down slowly, easing Patrick’s half-hard cock out through his boxer briefs. Patrick wasn’t looking at him. That was fine. David liked a challenge. But first.

“Ok, one thing though. I know you love baseball. I can leave you alone to enjoy it. You don’t need to entertain me.” David’s smile was slipping, as some guilt crept in. Selfish, he was being selfish. 

Looking down at David where he was leaning back on his heels, and gently cupping the side of his face, Patrick said, “David. Thanks for checking in. I’m still going to finish this game, but I can multitask. Put your mouth on me.” 

David loved giving head. He loved the feeling of usefulness it gave him. It had a way of emptying out his mind. For whatever reason, when his mouth was full of cock, he could think of nothing else. Call it meditation. Self-care, that’s what it was, really. His line-up of former therapists would have had to agree. 

Especially when it was a cock as good as Patrick’s. The first time he’s seen it, in the soft light of the Rose Apothecary stockroom after closing, some three weeks into dating, David had to bite back the (inappropriate, but grateful) first words that had popped into his head. 

That’s mine. That’s the best one I’ve ever seen. 

He hadn’t said this out loud. Patrick wouldn’t have believed him back then, at least not that early on in their relationship. It was, and still remained, the truth though. Now, with the benefit of Patrick’s four gold rings on David’s left hand, Patrick was more sure of himself. Put your mouth on me. God. David loved that. 

“David, you ok down there? Where’d you go just then?” Patrick asked, looking away from the game again with a faint wrinkle of concern on his forehead. 

“Nowhere bad, don’t worry.”

And with that, David leaned forward, sucking the head of Patrick’s cock into his mouth. 

“YES!” Patrick yelled, which, wow, I mean, sure, flattering, but really? Almost three years in? That’s all it takes?

“I know you didn’t see that play, but dude, that was awesome.” 

“Did you just call me dude?” David asked, offended.

“Sorry, babe, sorry. You’re doing great.” Patrick pet his hair, distractedly. 

Ok, it was on. 

David opened his mouth, wide, and took Patrick’s dick deep, letting the head of it bump into the back of his throat. He hummed around it, sucking hard as he pulled nearly all the way off again before working up to a steady rhythm. 

Patrick’s right hand threaded through his hair, absent-mindedly. Not good enough. 

“Lift, Patrick.” David worked Patrick’s jeans and boxers down, just to his knees. He needed a little more room to work. “How much am I allowed, here?”

“Whatever you want, hon...”

Sinking back down on that gorgeous cock, David took it in deep enough to almost, but not quite, cut off his airway. Then he just held it there, tonguing the underside, looking for a reaction. Patrick’s hips lifted up, pushing his cock just a tiny bit further in. 

“Mm, that’s so good, David.” 

Getting better. Without taking his mouth off Patrick’s cock, David reached with one hand to the left of the couch, into the side table drawer. Digging around, he found what he was looking for - a small bottle of lube left from the last time they hadn’t made it to the bedroom. 

Patrick wasn’t the only one who could multitask. 

Grateful for their loose fit, David pulled his sweats halfway down his thighs, mouth not losing contact with Patrick’s dick. Uncapping the bottle, David squeezed just a small amount of lube onto his fingers, and circled his own rim. 

Above him, he heard Patrick’s breath catch. About time. 

Hollowing his cheeks, David began to suck in earnest, fingering himself at the same pace. 

Entering that wonderful blow job headspace, David lost track of time. All that existed was Patrick’s cock, David’s full mouth, and his own fingers in his ass. 

The grating voice of the announcer broke through, however. 

_“And with that, folks, Sogard evens up the score. We’re looking at extra innings tonight!”_

Fuck.

“Look at that, David, the game’s over, Blue Jays won, can we please, unh, move this into the bedroom?” Patrick said, with a breathy gasp, both of his hands clenching in David’s hair. 

As gratifying as it was to have gotten Patrick’s full, undivided attention, David pulled off his dick for a moment. 

“I thought the talking man said they’re not done yet,” David replied, voice a little rough at this point. 

“Oh, it’s fine. I can watch the rest later, or check the scores tomorrow, it’s fine, David.”

“Nope. Nope, it’s not fine. You wanted to watch baseball, you’re watching baseball. Here, give me your sweatshirt.” David said, pointing at the no-doubt Target brand, cotton/poly blend zip-up Patrick somehow still had on.

“What? Why?” Patrick asked, face flushed, eyes a little glazed. God, David loved it when he got sex-stupid. 

“For the couch, sweetie. You remember what happened last time,” David replied, patiently. 

“Ohh right. Thank God you stole that industrial-strength stain remover from the motel.” Patrick gracelessly pulled off the sweatshirt, lifting his hips for David to scoot it under his thighs. 

The announcer was back. 

_“OK, folks, and we’re back! First at bat for the Yankees we have...”_

And David stopped listening. He was too busy working himself the rest of the way out of his sweatpants, socks, and underwear, before crawling into Patrick’s lap. 

“Can you still see?” David asked, after angling Patrick’s legs to be a bit off-center, so that Patrick still had a line of sight to the TV.

Patrick, meanwhile, was busy sucking an above-the-collar (rude) bruise into the side of David’s neck, while his hands roughly slipped and grabbed at David’s ass. 

“What? Oh, sure, yes,” Patrick replied, eventually, leaning up to capture David’s mouth in a kiss. 

Grabbing the lube where it he’d left it on the couch cushion, David slicked up Patrick’s cock. With that, he lifted himself and positioned Patrick’s cock at his hole, sinking smoothly down onto it with a deep sigh. 

“Jesus, David. How the fuck are you real?” 

David laughed, proud of himself. Patrick nearly never swore. “Watch your game, Patrick. I’ve got this.”

Making sure he didn’t block Patrick’s view of the screen, David began to grind into Patrick’s lap, working his cock as deep as it would go. 

“Fuck, David, that’s perfect,” Patrick gasped, one hand gripping David’s hip while the other found its way to his cock, jerking it just the way David loved. He started pulling at David’s sweater. “Get this off, I want to see you.” 

Not wanting to get his still-lube-y hand on one of his favorite Givenchy sweaters, David tried to work the sweater off one-handed. Thankfully, Patrick saw the problem and helped, getting the sweater over David’s head. 

_“And Stroman throws a no-hitter! In the 10th inning! The man is unstoppable. Next up, we’ll see if the Jays have what it takes to come away with a hard-earned win...”_

“God, David, please, I don’t care about the game,” Patrick babbled, fucking himself up into David none-too-gently.

“But it sounds like such a nail-biter! I think we should finish...the game, don’t you?” David teased, angling his hips on the next slide onto Patrick’s cock. 

_“And with that, folks, Smoak takes the Jays to victory! Wow, what a game.”_

“Fucking FINALLY,” Patrick gasps, working his hands under David’s thighs and flipping their positions on the couch.

With the change in position, Patrick’s cock was dragging on David’s prostate, and Patrick upped the speed of his hand on David’s cock. 

“God, David, I love you so much, the things you do to me. Where do you want me to come?”

Half out of his mind and right on the verge of coming, David barely had the wherewithal to gasp out, “Come on me, I wanna see it, please, Patrick.”

“Ok, David, ok.”

And with that, Patrick pulled out, gracelessly leaning over David to come all over his stomach and chest. Without missing a beat, Patrick pushed three fingers into David, stroking his prostate in time with the hand on his dick, until David let out a hoarse cry and added his own come to the mess. 

Disregarding the come pooled between them, Patrick collapsed bonelessly onto David, resting his forehead on a come-free portion of David’s chest, catching his breath. 

David closed his eyes, exhausted and thoroughly sated, hands back to tracing patterns on Patrick’s smooth skin as they both came down from the high. 

“On second thought, I love baseball,” he sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David is just trying to book a wedding venue. Patrick helps.

"JESUS, fuck. This is so stressful."

Patrick looked up from where he was 4/5 through the Thursday NYT crossword. So. Close. But this was more important. Probably.

"What's the problem, David?" he asked, keeping his voice neutral and calm.

"It's trying to find a fucking venue for this wedding! That's the fucking problem! It's like these places hear my voice and jack the price up. Do you think that's possible?" He sighed, deflated. "Do I sound, like, _expensive_ , or something? Or uptight? Like I have $18,000 for four hours in the Elmdale Botanical Gardens, not including catering?"

"Huh. I don't know. Do you want me to call instead?" Patrick offered.

"No, no, no. We already agreed on who's doing what. You made a spreadsheet and a Gantt chart and everything." David let out a deep, frustrated breath. "I can do this."

Patrick had an idea.

"Do you think it might help if you...sounded more relaxed on the phone?"

"What do you mean? Like should I call up Twyla to see if she'll go do some yoga with me first or something?" David looked skeptical. Patrick knew that _relaxed_ wasn't really a state David found himself in very often.

"Well, sure, you could do that. I was kind of thinking something else though." With that, Patrick stood up from the couch, walking over to where David was sitting at the kitchen table, leaning down and pressing a slow kiss into the side of David's neck.

"I see. You really think if we, uh, work out some tension first, I'll get a better deal on a venue?"

"Who said anything about 'first?' I was thinking during. Do you have more venues to call?" Patrick kept mouthing at David's neck.

"Oh, _oh_. Yes, let's do that." David nodded. "Where do you want me?"

"Just stay there," Patrick instructed.

David's face shifted at the firm directive, already losing some of the tension. Patrick loved that for as particular and uncompromising as David was in his public-facing life, this side was one that only Patrick got to see.

"David, which place is next on the list?"

"What?" David had gone a little glazed over. Perfect. "The Elmridge Country Club."

"Alright then. Call them up. And remember, _relaxed_."

Patrick took David's left hand in his own, bringing it to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss on the thin skin on the inside of his wrist. He paused then, waiting for David to place the call.

"Hello, my name is David Rose. I submitted a contact form on your frankly less than user-friendly website two weeks ago, and hadn't heard back from anyone. I'm inquiring about..." Patrick tapped David's thigh, mouthing " _relaxed_ " at him when he had David's attention.

Patrick traced his index finger over David's palm, then slowly ran it over the sensitive webbing between each of David's fingers.

Patrick loved these little secrets he knew about David. He knew that David had, in his own words, "kissed, like, a thousand people," but David also was constantly (generously) reminding him that no one had taken their time with him like Patrick did. Those idiots had missed out.

"Yes, I would love to speak to your booking coordinator. That would be great," David said caustically into the phone. Patrick brought David's index finger into his mouth, sucking lightly, enjoying the feeling of one of David's gold engagement rings on his tongue.

"Hi, yes, this is David Rose. I'm interested in your space for the weekend of May 23rd..." David tapered off, as Patrick added a second finger into his mouth.

"Actually, could you hold please? Just for a moment? Thanks so much."

Patrick let his teeth scrape lightly along David's fingers as he pulled them from his mouth. "Yes, David?"

"Just, I think this is working? You're so gorgeous, God," he said, reverently, leaning in to catch Patrick's mouth in a kiss.

"David, back to the phone. Get us that venue."

He picked up David's hand again, this time gently pulling him up from the kitchen table and leading him over to their bed.

"Hi, yes, I'm back. My apologies. So could you tell me a bit about the features of your various wedding packages?"

Patrick ran his fingers just under the waistband of David's loose, but no doubt expensive, sweatpants. He looked up to seek out David's eyes until he got the confirmation of a pleased smile and a nod. Alright. He eased David's pants down past his knees and off, gently pushing him to sit on the side of the bed. He knelt down in front of David, eyes level with his cock.

"Wow, the True Love Package sounds, uh, great. Could you please tell me a bit about the pricing structure? You're so helpful." David asked, breathy even though Patrick hadn't even touched his dick yet. Flattering.

Pushing David's knees apart, Patrick placed a series of sucking kisses up David's right thigh, not enough to mark, just enough to get a solid 30% of David's attention away from worrying about whether the Elmridge Country Club was trying to rip him off.

As David listened to the venue's price list, he started nervously tapping one hand against the bed, tension returning to his body.

Maybe 50% distracted would be better. Patrick licked his lips, and in one smooth motion, slid David's cock into his mouth.

David let out a small but clearly audible gasp, and moved the hand that had been tapping the bed into Patrick's hair.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, it's fine, I'm fine. Please, I'd love to hear more about the payment plan options." Then, looking down at Patrick, he added, "You've been so helpful, please continue."

Message received. Patrick swirled his tongue around the head of David's cock, before sinking down deeply on it again.

When they'd first gotten together, and Patrick had seen David's cock for the first time, he had honestly been a little scared. How the hell was he supposed to ever fit that in his mouth, or ass? Fortunately, David had been an excellent teacher. And Patrick, an avid learner.

Changing the angle so he could swallow around the head, Patrick held firmly to the base while bringing his other hand up under David's sweater to pinch a nipple. That earned him another little gasp.

"By any chance...is there any more you could do for me?"

With that, Patrick set about building up a nice, steady rhythm, his hands and mouth working together. He tried to keep the pace slow enough to not bring David all the way off before this call was done, though. David's hands were clenching and unclenching in his hair.

"No, truly, you would do that? For me?"

It sounded like David was really getting somewhere. Patrick slowed down, nearly to a halt, letting David's cock rest in his mouth. He ran his hands up the soft hair of David's thighs, soothing him.

"Wow. Just, wow. I don't know what to say. That's an incredibly generous offer. Let me discuss that with my partner, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Ciao!"

David hung up the phone, letting out a deep and satisfied sigh before thrusting gently into Patrick's mouth.

"Ciao. Did I really just say 'ciao' to that person? I blame you, you're a terrible influence."

Knowing that David was close now, Patrick stopped messing around. Sucking hard, he twisted his hand around what still (try as he might) wouldn't fit in his mouth. David's thighs began to shake, and then Patrick's favorite part started. The babbling.

"Fuck, baby. That's so damn good. How the hell have you gotten so good at that. I mean, who am I kidding, I know how, I was there for literally every time you've done this. Jesus, how did I get so lucky. Fuck, you're going to make me come, I'm going to come, Patrick. Please, baby, keep going, that's right, yeah. I can't believe I get to marry you and that mouth. Fuck!"

Patrick sunk as far down as he could, and David came hard into his throat. Patrick swallowed, and once David's shuddering had stopped, Patrick gently pulled off.

"So, David. Did we get the venue?" Patrick asked, smiling up at this person he loved more than anyone on Earth.

David leaned down, kissing Patrick sweetly. "...Yes. Yes we did. And guess what the best part was? She even said I was, get this, ' _such a nice person_.'"

“So I’m a miracle worker, is what you’re saying.”

“Yes, Patrick, you are.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is just trying to study for the GRE. David helps.

“David, I’ve been thinking.”

 

“Hmm?” David looked up from the Yelp cakeshop reviews he’d been analyzing. Was this place in Elktown actually classy or was it trying too hard? Did super-reviewer 'Susan from Elmdale' really know her fondant well enough to have an informed opinion?

 

“I think I should reschedule my GRE for after the wedding - push it out another six months. There's just a lot going on right now, and I don't want an unfair amount of the planning to fall on you. And anyway, the online MBA program at Elmdale College has rolling admissions. I’ll do it next year.”   
  


David took in Patrick’s face, the little, stressed, v-shaped wrinkle in between his eyebrows, the rogue curl sticking up close to his forehead. God, David loved that curly hair. Ever since Marcy had sent him a picture of three-year-old-Patrick, curly-headed and wild, David had become a little obsessed, and Patrick agreed to grow his hair out a bit for the wedding. 

 

David held up a finger. “Hold on. Remember? I prepared for this moment, like three months ago.” He dug in the couch cushions for his phone, then swiped through his saved videos until he got to the one he was looking for. He pushed play, scooting close to Patrick so they could both see the screen.

 

\-------------

 

_ “David, why are you recording this?” _

 

_ “Because, I am nearly-100% sure that future-you might need to hear this. You’ll come up with some perfectly rational reason for why you should put off getting your MBA, and I’ll fall for it, because I love quitting things, but you, Patrick Brewer, do not. You’re not a quitter. So, ok, for the camera, please - tell me again why you want to get your MBA,” David instructs, off-camera. _

 

_ “Ok, sure. Hi, future-Patrick. David is convinced that you’re going to forget this, so here goes. You want to get your MBA in entrepreneurship because you think that you and David could expand Rose Apothecary, maybe open another store in another town? But you need to have more advanced business knowledge to be confident enough to make that leap. The store really helps people. It helps the vendors, it helps this town. You love it. It’s worth it. Get your MBA.” _

 

\-------------

 

Patrick sighed. “Ok, fine. I’ll keep studying. Past-Patrick has a point. Thank you for recording that.”

 

David smiled and nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Patrick’s forehead. “You need some tea to keep you going?”

 

“No, I’m fine for now. But man, the vocab portion of the test seems so pointless. Why do I need to know what ‘minatory’ means to prove I can succeed in grad school?”

 

“What the fuck is a minatory? Is that like a miniature aviary? Jared Leto had one of those. I thought it was unkind to the canaries.” 

 

“Apparently, it’s ‘threatening or foreshadowing evil or tragic developments,’” Patrick corrected him.

 

“Ah. So obvious." David rolled his eyes.

 

“Ok, here’s another. Recondite.” 

 

"Gesundheit."

 

“Apparently it means, 'difficult to penetrate,'” Patrick replied, straight-faced.

 

David snorted. "Hey, that reminds me, did the mail come today?"

 

"Yeah, why?"

 

"Got you some stuff. Or, rather,  _ us _ , some stuff. Thought it might help you study." 

 

“What? How? What did you get?”

 

David smiled to himself. This was going to be fun. “You remember how we’d talked about trying out some toys, a few weeks back? I ordered a couple from this sweet, little, sex-positive shop out of Vancouver. I thought we could play with them a bit, use it as a reward system for working on these super cute flashcards you’ve made.” 

 

Patrick looked uncertain. “I don’t know, David. I don’t like feeling like I’m using you for sex. This kind of feels like that to me.”

 

“Ok, see, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re not  _ using me for sex _ . Sex can be useful, there’s a difference.”

 

“Help me understand that.”

 

“It’s like this. Are we doing this because you’re trying to get money from me?” David asked. 

 

“Obviously not.” Patrick grimaced. 

 

“Ok. That fact alone puts you above at least 70% of the people I’ve slept with,” David said, honestly. He wished he could remember when he’d stopped worrying that Patrick would run for the hills when he disclosed something low-key awful like that about his past. Thank God, it’d been a while. 

 

“David...”

 

“Alright. Next. Are you actually trying to hook up with my sister, and I’m just the stepping stone?”

 

“ _ Gross _ , David. I’m marrying you in four months.”

 

“Moving on. Trying to get your collection of invisible art into my gallery?”

 

“What? Invisible art? Ok, I get it. I don’t have an ulterior motive for sleeping with you, David. Show me what you bought. The mail is on the kitchen table.”

 

David walked over and picked up the nondescript package, grabbing a pair of scissors off the kitchen counter and carefully opening the box. He brought his prizes back to the couch. 

 

“Ok, so, first up, we have a set of very approachable silicone anal beads.” He held the box up for Patrick’s examination, like some very sexy version of The Price is Right. 

 

“And next up, we have this lovely vibrating prostate massager, in body-safe silicone, naturally.”

 

Patrick shifted next to him, his cheeks turning a delightful pink. “So tell me how either of these are going to help me study. These look...distracting.”

 

“Well, I was thinking that because you’re new to toys, and I’m, um, not, I could show you how to use them on me. Plus, flashcards.” 

 

“Alright, sure. Let me get the sex towel. We’re not using my sweatshirt again. And please, let’s make it to the bed this time,” Patrick said, seeming like he was gaining confidence in David’s (admittedly brilliant) idea. 

 

“A reasonable request. Ok, grab your flashcards, let’s do this.” 

 

While Patrick gathered up his study materials, David took the toys into the bathroom to wash.

 

As Patrick laid down a towel and grabbed the lube, David got naked. God, he was looking forward to this. Even if he had to hear words like ‘minatory’ while his ass was getting played with. Small price to pay. He arranged himself on his back, planting his feet firmly on the mattress. 

 

“Ok, so how are we doing this?” Patrick asked. 

 

“You have your flash cards? Ok, let’s start with the beads. Put a bit of lube on just the first bead, and put it in me. Just the first one. One hand for flashcards, one hand for fun. Got it?”

 

Patrick nodded. His hands looked a little shaky, something that always happened when he was really turned on. 

 

David sighed at the feeling of the small, silicone bead entering him. He’d missed this. “Ok, stop. Flashcard - what’s the next word?”

 

Patrick looked a little glazed over, his eyes locked on the as-yet unutilized series of beads. “Hmm? Oh, right. Ok, let’s see.” He reached to where he’d placed a small stack of cards next to David’s hip. 

 

“Incommodious, meaning ‘inconveniently small.’ Now what, David?”

 

“Use it in a sentence, then put another bead in me.”

 

Patrick let out a slow breath, focusing. “My fiance’s cock is the opposite of incommodious.” 

 

“Sassy, but true. Another bead, if you please.”

 

Patrick added a little bit of lube to the next bead. So sweet. The silicone was so smooth that he really didn’t need to use a ton of lube, but Patrick was nothing if not considerate of David’s comfort. 

 

“How’s that?” He asked, flushed deepening along his cheeks. 

 

“Mm. Great. Ok, time for another flashcard.”

 

“Moiety. Can I put another bead in? God, these are fun. I love watching them disappear into you.”

 

“In just a moment. Definition, please?” David asked, although it was getting harder to focus on the original purpose of this little exercise given how absorbed Patrick looked right now.

 

“‘Half, or portion.’ As in, I’ve only put less than a moiety of these beads into you, and I am getting impatient.” 

 

“Wonderful. Another bead, then.”

 

Patrick pushed forward the third bead into David, his fingers rubbing against the sensitive skin of his rim.

 

“God, baby, that’s so good. Stroke my cock a second, please?” David remembered himself. “I mean, once you do another flashcard.”

 

“Ah, this one’s appropriate. ‘Ligneous.’ It means, ‘like wood,’ and I am pretty sure you can guess how I am going to use that in a sentence, so let’s just skip that part. Your ego doesn’t need any stroking.” With that, Patrick slid his slick hand around David’s cock, root to head. 

 

David groaned. 

 

“You cheated, but I’ll accept it. Please keep going, hon.”

 

“Alright, ‘piquancy,’ which means, shit you not, ‘pleasantly stimulating.’” Patrick slid the fourth bead into him, earning a gasp from David, and then moving his hand to David’s cock to give it another slow pull. 

 

“Baby, you’re doing great. How about you do a couple cards at once and I’ll let you play a bit more with these beads before you get me off?” David offered. 

 

“Ok, good plan. Let’s see, ‘fervid,’ meaning ‘intensely enthusiastic,’ as you are right now. ‘Laconic,’ or, ‘using few words,’ as you definitely _don’t_ tend to when you’re about to come. There. That’s two words. What do I do with the beads, David?” Patrick asked, his hand moving back to David’s cock. Where it belonged, David thought dazedly to himself. His hand’s true home, David’s cock. 

 

“God, yes, just, ok, fuck the cards. Use your other hand, just work the beads in and out of me. I think there’s a couple left? I can take them all. Then, when you’ve almost got me all the way there, pull them all out of me.” 

 

“Ok, I can do that, David. Fuck, you’re so hot. You look so beautiful like this. Thank you so much for letting me do this.” God, this man. Thanking him. Imagine. 

 

Patrick set to work stroking David’s cock, thumbing over the head, while he used his other hand to feed the beads into David’s ass, pulling them out and pushing them back in one at a time. David’s breath started to come faster, his hands clenching in the sheets. 

 

“Fuck, Patrick, yes, I’m almost there. Please keep going, you’re doing so good, you’re so hot for me. Can’t wait to get you off next. You did so good studying. You’re going to nail that test, you’re the smartest person I know, and so hot too, it’s just not fair. Fuck, keep fucking me, yes! God, I’m coming, ok pull them out, pull them out, it’ll feel so good...”

 

Patrick gently tugged the beads out of David, as his cock sprayed all over his own chest, come even hitting his chin. Fuck, he’d forgotten how hard toys like this made him come. 

 

Before David let himself be pulled fully into the Land of the Sleepy and Well-Fucked, his hands tugged at Patrick’s fly, hardly believing Patrick was still fully dressed, when he could feel how hard his cock was behind his zipper. 

 

“Yes, David, please, yes, get your hands on me. Your mouth, whatever, just please, touch me.”

 

He got Patrick’s fly down, pulling his boxer briefs down below his balls before swiping his hand through the come on his chest and bringing it up to Patrick’s dick. 

 

“God, David, this isn’t going to take long. Fuck, I’m almost there, it’s ridiculous.”

 

“Just let it go, Patrick, come all over me, please.” 

 

And Patrick did just that, dragging the head of his dick wetly through the mess on David’s stomach before collapsing in a heap next to him. 

 

Some moments later, Patrick lifted his head to look at David. 

 

“How do you do it? How do you always know what I need?” He asked, and while the question was largely rhetorical, his naked expression was sincere.

 

“I don’t know. You do the same for me. I think it might be magic. Or something more mundane, like deep compatibility, trust, and mutual respect, but let’s go with magic,” David replied, still blown away by the thought that he could be just what someone needed. 

 

“Hey, want to use that massager on me tomorrow? Quiz me on those flashcards at the same time, perhaps?”

 

“Patrick Brewer, is this becoming a kink? Please say yes.”

 

“Yes. Yes it is, David. I love you.” Patrick answered, leaning over for a kiss.

 

"I love you too."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David is just trying to talk shit about himself. Patrick doesn't help.

"David, you're bouncing your leg. Everything alright?" Patrick asked. 

 

They had taken the afternoon off from the store, leaving Alexis in charge, much to David's chagrin. They were on their way to the Elmdale Fine Haberdashery to be measured for suits for the wedding, and Patrick was driving. 

 

"It's just, I ate that old burrito from like four days ago that was in the back of the fridge for lunch, and I feel kind of bloated and gross and unattractive. I don't really feel like standing in front of a three-way mirror right now," David replied with a grimace.

 

"Well, for the record, you look great. Which is very impressive, because that burrito was suspicious."

 

"Thank you? I think? You're complimenting my appearance and insulting my standards for what constitutes edible food at the same time," David said, eyebrow raised.

 

"Sounds about right. We've already established that you're simultaneously very beautiful and will eat food literally out of the trash." 

 

At that, David blushed, and Patrick was pretty sure it wasn't because of the reminder of that time a couple months back Patrick saw him fish leftover, day-old motel cinnamon rolls out of the trash can behind Stevie's desk. In David's defense, they had still been in the (partially squished) box. 

 

"I don't feel beautiful right now," David said to his knees, eyes fixed on the floor of the passenger seat. "I feel like a beached whale. I haven't been to the gym in months, I've got this weird, rough skin on my knees and elbows, I desperately need to deep-condition my hair but haven't had time, and don't get me started on these new wrinkles," David pointed emphatically at the skin on the outside corners of his eyes with a mournful expression. 

 

At that, Patrick turned the car off the highway onto a gravel access road. He turned to look at David.

 

"David, we don't have to try on suits today if you don't want to. We can come back another time. There’s no rush."

 

"Yeah, I know, I'm being stupid. This is stupid, and immature. I sound like a teenager. I'm supposed to be past all this self-conscious shit, right? I mean, you don't worry about this kind of thing, do you? Granted, you're younger than me, and, well, let's be honest, a better, less shallow person? So that's probably why..." David trailed off, eyes still fixed on the floor. 

 

"David, look at me. We're not going to try on suits today, but not because you're not beautiful. You are. And definitely not because you're shallow. You aren't. I think maybe I need to do a better job telling you how great you are."

 

David finally met his eyes. "What do you mean?"

 

"You can absolutely say no, but I'm wondering about heading home and getting out those restraints you bought the other day," Patrick replied with a small smile. "What do you think?"

 

"What does that have to do with me feeling like shit about how I look?"

 

"I was thinking I could remind you how gorgeous you are to me, while you just lie there. If you're comfortable with that."

 

"So, what, you're going to tie me down to our bed and tell me how lovely my eyes are?" David scoffed, disbelieving.

 

"More or less, yeah. Is that alright with you?"

 

David paused a moment before answering. "I know this sounds a little ridiculous because you're essentially asking for permission to be nice to me, which I should, logically, be totally fine with, but just to make sure...you'll stop if I need you to?"

 

"Of course, David," Patrick replied gently, fully sincere, not a hint of teasing. He turned back onto the highway, and headed for home.  

 

\------

 

Back at their apartment, David jumped in the shower while Patrick set up the restraints. It was a simple under-the-bed cuff set, nothing fancy. A few weeks back, at Patrick's request, David had told him a bit about his prior experience with bondage before they ordered the kit. While Patrick truly was over any past feelings of jealousy he'd had about David's sexual history, he liked to be prepared when they were going to try incorporating something new into their sex life. He didn't want to unintentionally remind David of some painful part of his history - he was determined that David was entirely comfortable and into anything they did together. He knew that hadn't always been the case for David in the past, a fact that made him feel more than a little murderous. But when David had explained how relaxed being tied up made him feel when he could trust the person doing the tying, Patrick was all in. 

 

He'd even done some research on his own, just to be thorough. He read about the relaxed sub-space David had referenced experiencing when he was tied up, the importance of ensuring blood flow to the limbs, and after-care. He'd also watched some very high quality instructional videos. Just to be thorough. 

 

David came out of the bathroom as Patrick finished taking the duvet of the bed and laying each cuff on a corner of the mattress. 

 

"So...how are we doing this?" David asked, shifted from foot to foot and looking less than confident. That was what Patrick was aiming to change, at least for tonight. 

 

"Lay down on your back, please."

 

David nodded, and laid down on the bed. Patrick took David's left ankle in his hand, gently wrapping the cuff around it before placing a gentle kiss on the divet of the inside of his heel. He gave the same treatment to his other ankle before moving up to the head of the bed to cuff David's wrists.

 

"You can be rougher with me. You know I don't mind," David said quietly, looking up at him.

 

"I know. And, no. Not tonight," Patrick replied, kissing the palm of David's right hand before enclosing his wrist in a cuff. He moved onto the left side of the bed, and kissed each of David's knuckles before securing the last cuff. With that, he reached to adjust the tightness of the straps, making sure they were snug without straining.

 

"How's that?" He asked, trying to gauge David’s expression. 

 

"Mmm." 

 

"No, use words, please. Are you comfortable?"

 

"Yes, Patrick," he answered quietly, eyes closed. 

 

With that, Patrick stripped off his jeans and button-up until he was down to just his boxer briefs. This wasn’t about his dick, not right now, but he didn’t want his clothes getting in the way. 

 

“You are so gorgeous,” Patrick breathed out, running his hands up the soft hair on David’s calves. “I love your legs.”

 

“They used to be better. I used to do this ultra-intense spin class four days a week back in SoHo,” David argued. 

 

“Stop. They’re flawless.” 

 

He moved his hands up David’s thighs, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss into the concave dip above his left hip. David squirmed. 

 

“I love this spot.” Patrick said as he sucked a mark into his skin before moving to the other side and giving that mark a twin. 

 

“Aren’t you going to suck my dick or something?” David asked, a little breathless. 

 

“Not yet.” Patrick smiled against his skin, dragging his hands up David’s sides before sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting down lightly. 

 

“You’re perfect, David. I love having the time to just  _ look _ at you. It’s a privilege.” 

 

David arched off the bed as Patrick got his mouth on his other nipple. 

 

Moving up David’s body, he sucked marks into both shoulders, rubbing his hands up David’s biceps, pressed into the bed by the tension in the straps.

 

Finally, he swung his leg over David’s hips, settling over his lap. David’s cock against his ass felt fantastic, especially when David tried to lift his hips to grind into Patrick, using the limited leverage offered by the restraints. Not time for that yet, though. 

 

Patrick tilted David’s chin up, biting a very visible series of marks up the side of his neck. David had told him once in a moment of post-coital vulnerability that visible evidence of Patrick’s attraction to him made him feel wanted, and Patrick was happy to oblige. If David chose to cover them up for work tomorrow, he had the skincare products necessary to make them invisible. 

 

“God, David, you smell so good. I know we carry that cologne in the store, but there’s something about the way it smells on you.” 

 

David’s eyes were still closed, his breath coming faster, and his hips still attempting to seek out friction from where Patrick was seated above him. 

 

“What were you saying about wrinkles? I don’t see them. What I do see are the faintest little laugh lines.” He traced the skin at the edges of both eyes. “And I take it as a compliment that those weren’t there before. You deserve to laugh, David.” 

 

Patrick kissed the corner of each eye, before placing a kiss on David’s open mouth. At that, David took a hitching breath, and a tear slipped out the corner of his eye.

 

“You ok, hon?” Patrick asked.

 

“Shit, I’m not crying, I’m not. It’s just, you’re being so fucking nice, I really need you to pay attention to my dick or something though or I’m going to go fucking crazy.”

 

“Are you telling me you need me to stop? I’ll stop, David.” Patrick sat back on his hips. 

 

“No, don’t stop, not exactly, but maybe, um...”

 

“I can suck your dick, but what I really want is to ride you, if that’s alright.”

 

“Yeah, that’s...that’s alright.” David opened his eyes, and gave Patrick a somewhat watery smile. 

 

Patrick stood then, stepping out of his boxers and grabbing the closest (of several) bottles of lube before settling back over David’s hips. 

 

“Do you mind if I still talk to you while I get myself ready?” Patrick asked, checking in. 

 

“No, that’s ok, you can talk a little more.”

 

After squirting some of David’s blessedly-fancy lube into one hand, Patrick reached behind himself, rubbing his index finger around his rim before slowly sliding it inside. 

 

“Fuck, David, I can’t wait to have you inside me. I haven’t even talked about your cock yet.” He curled his finger to seek out his prostate, but the angle was wrong. 

 

“It’s like it was made for me.” He slipped another finger in beside the first, letting his head fall back with the pleasure of it. Not enough though. “Like  _ you _ were made for me. All of you, David.”

 

He looked down at David’s face, surprised that his eyes were open, albeit a bit wet. But he looked happy. “Talk to me, David. How are you doing?”

 

“I’m good, I’m good, just, you’re really beautiful too, especially like this,” David answered. 

 

Patrick brought his other hand up to David’s dick, tracing a finger through the fluid that had gathered at the tip, and dragging it down the side to the base. Fuck, David was wet. He circled his cock, and began stroking it in time with his fingers in his ass, adding a third finger. 

 

“Ok, you ready?” he asked.

 

“Yes, babe, come on, I’m dying for you to,” David said, with no small amount of desperation in his voice. 

 

Patrick lifted his hips, positioning David’s cock at his hole and sliding slowly down. He wiped his lube-covered hand on the towel he’s had the foresight to leave on the nightstand, and brought both hands up to David’s face, leaning down to kiss him deeply.

 

Setting up a deep, slow rhythm, grinding David’s dick into him, Patrick got back to talking. 

 

“I love you, David. I love you. You’re not shallow, how could you think that? You’re generous, and loyal, and passionate, and clever, and electrically charismatic - everyone around you is lucky to know you, me most of all.” 

 

At that, David couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. 

 

“Shit, baby, was that too much? Do you want me to stop?” he asked, concerned. 

 

“No, no, no, don’t stop, just kiss me, please,” David begged. Patrick didn’t need to be told twice. 

 

Leaning all the way forward, so that his dick slid against David’s stomach each time he moved his hips, he kissed at David’s open mouth, tongue running inside his bottom lip before catching that lip in his teeth. He picked up the rhythm with his hips, knowing there was no way he was going to last much longer with David's tongue now fucking into his mouth like that. 

 

"David, are you close?"

 

David nodded vigorously, seemingly beyond words at this point. That was fine. Patrick had enough words for both of them. He sat back up, hand working at his dick. He wanted to have an excellent view of what came next. 

 

"You look so beautiful when you come, David. You're so beautiful all the time, come for me, come on."

 

David did, back arching off the bed and letting out a moan that made Patrick wish they didn’t share walls with neighbors. He wanted those sounds just for himself. 

 

“Good, good. Gorgeous. That’s right.” Patrick’s hand sped up on his dick, before he came all over David’s chest and stomach. 

 

\-------

 

A few minutes later, after they’d both caught their breath, Patrick had taken the cuffs off of David’s wrists and ankles, rubbing the skin where it had just barely chafed. They’d both cleaned up and changed the sheets, and Patrick curled up behind David, hand pressed to his heart. He waited for David to speak.

 

“That was...intense. For me. But...” he paused. Patrick waited, pressing his lips against the back of David’s neck. “I think I needed that? ...Thank you.” David took a shuddering breath, pulling Patrick’s arms tighter around him.

 

“I needed it too, David. It’s good for me, getting to remind you of how I see you, getting to take care of you. You take care of me all the time. Thank you for letting me do the same.”

 

David yawned. “Thank God I get to marry you, Patrick,” he said, contented and tired. 

 

“Thank God I get to marry you too, David,” Patrick answered, nuzzling his nose into David’s hair, and drifting off to sleep. 


End file.
